


You’d Think

by moon932



Series: KindaTonyCentricTBH [4]
Category: Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Depressing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Tony Stark, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Like, Mentions violence, References to Depression, THIS IS POST AFGHANISTAN, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, anway, hah, honestly, its just, not really on the comfort part though, not really though?, please do mind the rating, think again THOT, this is just angst to the max, this is very angst, very, you thought i would give you a break?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 08:33:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27967619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon932/pseuds/moon932
Summary: you’d think that when Tony came home his loved ones would be there. to comfort, support. to be there when he was drowning in his mind.you’d be wrong.
Series: KindaTonyCentricTBH [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1601650
Kudos: 20





	You’d Think

**Author's Note:**

> TW: mentions of torture! Also, this is very depressing (like i’ve said in the tags- this has a mature rating for a reason)  
> Don’t read if you don’t wanna feel bad! No critic please and thank you! <3

You’d expect when Tony came home, he’d be surrounded by family. By his loved ones. Curled up on the couch watching shitty rom-coms, with the lights off and the windows dimmed to give it that movie theater feel. With big bowls of popcorn and laughing, with assuring that he’s back. That he’s alive, that he’s  _ okay _ .

You’d think Pepper would kick off her shoes, and Rhodey would put his feet on the ottoman. And Tony would melt into the couch, he and his friends all melted together into one big cuddle puddle. You’d think he’d come home to the fast zipping of his bots, of the questionable drinks.

You’d think that Tony’s loved ones would be there for him. With tears in their eyes and soft clothing, with hugs and cheek kisses.

Nope. Instead, he comes home not knowing who to trust. He comes home with Rhodey mad at him and Pepper frustrated. He comes home with Obie wanting profit. He comes home to camera flashes and people yelling. 

Tony comes home to a too empty house. With a too big living room and too big windows. With a too big couch and a view of the water he flinches away from. He remembers always loving the water, always loving diving deep, coming up with water in his hair and a laugh in his chest.

Tony remembers when the trickle of the water fountain used to be soothing. Holding his calloused hands against the wall and feeling the cool water wash over his hand. Remembers when he couldn’t sleep and the couch was more comfy then a bench, when he’d sit and listen to it all night. Until the moon was almost gone and the sun was peaking up through the opposite side of the house. Tony remembers all of it, when the trickle would soothe him when the house was too quiet. When all he had for company on those quiet nights was his AI and the cool ocean breeze coming in through the slightly opened windows.

When he woke up in a cold sweat (nightmares were always a thing for him. either it be deeply unsettling dreams or endless scenarios playing out in his over active mind) and Rhodey was there. With a drink and quiet comfort, when Pepper would doze off on the couch when they worked on SI together.

Now though, the trickle of the water seemed to loud. Ringing throughout the silence, echoing down the stairs to his workshop. With again, too big windows. With the too much room, and the too many gadgets, and too many projects, and  _ too many fucking weapons _ .

His mind screamed at him. But instead of a fear of electrocution or the fear of Yinsen dying, it was crippling loneliness. His mind whispered in his ear. Instead of zipping around energetically, Dum-E wheeled up to him, quiet like when he’d stand watch over him all those nights. When he’d be a comforting presence when the night terrors woke him up screaming. In his claw was a wrench, heavy duty and silver and  _ shining _ . 

Tony wanted to cry. It was always in his blood, he thought bitterly, that he’d fit in with machines more than with humans. He understood machines, understood the code behind them, the simplicity of core function. 

With a shaking hand he reached out for the bot. Eyes haunted and shining like glass as the bot trilled and chirped. Rolling closer and nudged at his side. There was always one thing Dum-E grasped quickly. Maybe because it was in his code, maybe because Tony was lonely enough that he made a bot with the silent need of  _ comfort _ , of  _ safety _ . But the bot always understood the quiet moments, the bond between creator and creation. As if he understood the lonely feeling Tony always had. Even when surrounded by so many people, never being alone, but always being lonely.

Tony’s breath hitched. He longed for the warmth of his brother, of Pepper and the comfort of his loved ones. For the silliness of rom-coms and the dimness of a home theater. But instead he has a metal bot, with a shining wrench and code. Tony longed for the rush of diving into water, of feeling the cool trickle dance along his hand. He longed for when instead of seeing dirty water swirling, a electric shocks convulsing him, he saw the fish, saw the rock of the wall. Saw the side of a pool and the breeze of salt, he longed for so many things- but instead he got nothing.

He got nothing. No one’s shoulder to cry on, no hug to cling to. No safety to wrap himself up in. No, he got a too big house with too big furniture, with too many weapons and too many terrors. 

But he does have his first bot, holding a heavy duty wrench and ready to protect.


End file.
